A Steal of a Deal (27 page)

He rams the rear of my rental with his huge fender. My little car bounces on the shoulder. The rumble strips rattle my teeth.

I fumble for my phone, but my bag’s on the floor, and I don’t get a good grip before the Hummer hits me again. This time I smack my head against the steering wheel. The momentary daze rattles me good.

I need help.

But there’s nothing on this stretch of road.

My only hope is in the rented Saturn’s maneuverability versus the Hummer’s deadly mass. So I accelerate, but this time I swerve the wheel from side to side, zigging each time the Hummer zags.

Then he beats me at my game. I zag, he zigs, then rams his mountainlike front into the rear of my rental. The Saturn goes airborne into the weeds, shrubs, and young trees on the side of the road.

“Lord Jesus, I love you! Take care of Aunt Wee—”

CRASH!

What seems like a lifetime later, my door opens, and a voice calls my name. “Let’s go,” she says. “Out of the car.”

I shake my head. Blink a couple of times. I think all my pieces and parts are still connected, but a few of the critical ones aren’t in full working order yet. Like my legs.

“Now!” she demands.

“Okay, okay.”
Give me a break, lady. I just killed another
car.
“I’m not so sure my legs want to hold me up.”

“They better.”

Something cold touches my temple. This is no rescue.

I turn, and the barrel of the pistol winds up against the bridge of my nose. “Hey! What’s the deal? You hit me.”

“You really are stupid,” Glory says. “Get out of the car. We’re going to get the sapphires. Now.”

Glory?
Glory?
My camerawoman? “Huh?”

“You heard me. We’re going to find your stupid cop friend, you’re going to come up with some stupid excuse to take the stones with you—you can tell him you want to clean them, study them—I don’t care. Just get the stones.”

A series of images
click, click, click
into place in my head. I remember her schmoozing Max during the trip. Her support of his sports breaks had made me crazy, but I’d seen it as a way to gain his attention. The jealousy must have blinded me to any weird signals she might have given off.

It must’ve been a cinch for her to slip him the doctored ball.

The missing film? I’m sure it shows something interesting, if not incriminating. And finally, her vanishing act the minute she got home was no fluke. I’ll bet she had planned to fade into the sunset—with the sapphires—the minute she and Max hit U.S. soil. But somewhere along the line, things didn’t go Miss Glory’s way.

I take a deep breath. “Tell me. What went wrong?”

“Don’t yap. That mouth of yours is going to get you killed.”

No. You’re the one who’s going to kill me.
“So what if I do talk? Your gun tells me I’m not making it out of your escapade alive.”

“True, but you don’t need to drive me nuts these last few minutes, either.”

What I need is my phone.
“Okay. You have the gun. What do you want me to do?”

“You might be dumb, but not that dumb. Get out of the car.”

I reach down for my purse. “Where are you taking me?”

“Don’t!”
The gun presses deeper. “Drop that thing back where it was. You’re not giving me a faceful of mace or pepper spray.”

My grubby paws hang on tighter. “Wow! That would have been a great idea. Too bad I don’t have any of either.”

“Drop it, Andie. Don’t mess with me. I have the gun.”

“Whoop-dee-doo, Glory. The chief has the sapphires. You snuff me out for the sapphires, and you have nothing left. What are you going to tell your ‘friends’ then?”

That’s when I realize she’s desperate. Desperate people rarely think clearly. I should know. I’ve been desperate a time or two.

But Glory isn’t there yet. She leaves no space between her gun and my skin. “Not so cute,” she says. “Let’s go. And I’ll take your purse, since you want it so much.”

As we do the handover, I snag the snap on the outside flap of the bag with my pinky, and my slender phone slides onto my lap. I sigh with more oomph than necessary, cross my right leg over my left, hide the phone between my thighs, and pretend to try to slide out of the mangled car.

“Ouch!” I cry, without any need of pretense. I do hurt.

“You’re going to ‘ouch’ a lot more if you don’t hurry up.” “Okay, okay. I don’t know why you’re in such a rush. The chief’s not going to give me the stones. He probably doesn’t even have them anymore. The feds are involved, and probably a bunch of international agencies too.”

Glory grabs my arm. “I’ve had it with you.” She drags me out with surprising strength. “We’re doing this my way, and you’re getting those stones. If I have to let you go to Miss Mona’s because it’s going to take the cop time to get the sapphires back, then so be it. But if you even think of blabbing, to him or anybody else, it’s goodbye Aunt Weeby.”

I gasp. “She’s done nothing to you. As scummy as you are, do you really want things to get worse? Why would you hurt an innocent old lady?”

Her smile looks more like a sneer. “Because you care. That’s how I know you’ll do what you have to do.”

With everything in me, I fight the trembling her words set off. “Fine. I’ll give it a try, but I doubt it’ll work. Chief Clark might not be Einstein, but he’s not Cro-Magnon man either.” Since it looks as though I have nothing to lose, I add, “Just for kicks, you may as well tell me what your deal’s all about.”

She pulls on me again. “Life takes money. That’s what it’s all about. And your Miss Mona doesn’t even begin to pay what I’m worth. A girl’s got needs.”

I stumble.
My need for help is a big one right now.
“How’d you get from running a camera to stealing stones?”

“I know a friend of a friend of a friend. She hooked me up with the job opening here. We knew there was a fortune just sitting around in the studio’s vault.”

A friend of a friend of a friend.
A super-hazy, vague memory flits through my head. And then it comes to me. The first time I saw Glory wasn’t when she first started her job. It was the day a murder took place at the S.T.U.D. about a year ago. She’d said she’d come for a job interview.

Coincidence? I don’t think so. I venture a guess. “Your friend wouldn’t happen to be vacationing behind bars in New York, would he . . . or she?”

“That’s none of your business.”

But her answer comes too late. I notice the flare of her nostrils, the widening of her eyes. “You’ve got problems, girl,” I say with a chuckle. “Roger and Tiffany can’t do a thing for you from behind bars. He can’t fence the stones. And she never could do anything but kill.”

“Who said anything about Roger?” She laughs. “He had his uses, but you’re right. There’s none now that he’s locked up. The guy sure does know a lot of people, though.”

People? What people? “Tiffany’s in worse shape than he is. She doesn’t have the cash to help you with your ‘needs,’ and it sure won’t help her ‘needs’ for you to wind up with all the ill-gotten gain for yourself. When’s she going to share in the bounty? She’s doing time for murder one. Looooots of time behind bars.”

As I bide my time, I let Glory drag me through the rough weeds to the driver’s side of the Hummer. I climb up into the awkward vehicle, my phone clutched in the hand I hold to my side as though injured.

“You want me to drive?” I ask, surprised.

“No. I want you to scoot over into your seat. Did you think I was going to leave you to do your thing while I run around the car?”

She’s not so dumb, after all. Not that thieves are mental whizzes, either. But . . . “Don’t know what I can do without a key, Glory.”

She leaps up and ignores my comment.

My rampant curiosity makes me try again. “So how does Roger connect to the guys at the Kashmir mines?”

“Roger doesn’t,” she says between her teeth. “That’s the friend-of-a-friend connection.”

“And Xheng Xhi and Farooq?”

“They were just messengers, if that. Farooq was supposed to have given the stones to Robert in Srinagar, but something went wrong. And then I caught the slug trying to steal Allison’s and my stuff.”

A chill runs through me. “So you killed him.”

“It was self-defense.”

“Yeah, right. The guy’s after your wallet, and you defended your cash.”

“Something like that.”

“So you got rid of Farooq and Robert.”

“Robert wasn’t supposed to wind up in jail.” Frustration creeps into her voice. “He should have gone to the mines with you guys. He’s much more capable than that clumsy Xheng Xhi. All he wanted was to follow
you
around.”

“And you needed the stones.”

“I still need the stones.” She starts up the mechanical behemoth. As it roars away, she steers with only one hand. If I can somehow manage to distract her, I’m sure I can take the gun. After all, it’s still pointed right at me. What’s the difference between dying now while trying to get away or a half hour later when she realizes I can’t get the stones?

“How do you intend for me to get the sapphires from the authorities? They don’t generally fork over evidence just because you ask.”

“That’s your business.” Her voice is deadly cold. “You might want to give it some thought instead of talking me to death. After all, your sainted aunt’s life depends on your success.”

“How about you drive me to the PD? I spoke to Chief Clark a little while ago. I’m sure he’s still there.”

“You think I’m going to turn you down, right?” Her smile is one of the ugliest things I’ve ever seen. “Well, guess what? I know how much you love that aunt of yours. I’m not the one watching her—I’m here, watching you. I’m not alone in this gig. You blow it, and I make sure she gets blown up right where she is.”

I suck in another harsh breath. “Let’s get it over with.”

To my amazement, she intends to walk into the cop shop with me. How much of a sucker does she think I am? I know Aunt Weeby’s being watched, but if I can overpower Glory, she won’t be able to alert her pal.

Then her accomplice’s identity occurs to me. I feel sick. “Allison’s waiting to hear from you, isn’t she?”

“Allison? That religious nut? No way.”

The relief makes me weak in the knees—weaker, at any rate. “Fine. Keep your secrets, but I know Miss Mona’s not your pal, and at this point, I doubt Max has the crooked gene.”

She pulls into the parking lot outside the headquarters. “Let’s go.”

I see my glimmer of hope—and I take it. “Which way do you want me to go? Are you going to shoot me just for opening my door? Or do you want me to climb into your lap to get out?”

She pauses a moment to consider her dilemma. Then she takes a deep breath. “I’ll get out, but the gun’s going to be on you the whole time.”

As she slips out of the car, I flip open my phone and hit the speed-dial button I’d programmed for 911 the day I got the device. I slowly slide toward the door, and as soon as the dispatcher answers, I know I have to talk over her voice.

“You’re going to have to help me, Glory. I hurt my legs and my arm when you crashed my car off the road.”

“I’m not stupid. You’re not going to make me put down my gun so you can jump me. Come on. I don’t have all night.”

“Honest. I can’t get out by myself. And if you keep wasting time, a cop’s going to walk out here sooner or later. We’re in the PD parking lot, you know. That’s who’ll overpower you if you just stand there waiting with that gun in your hand.”

“You really don’t know when to shut up, do you?” She climbs back up onto the running board. “Here.”

I grab the hand she holds out. “Thanks. I really do need the help. I did get hurt when you rammed my car off the road. You don’t need to keep the gun on me the whole time. I’m not going anywhere on my own. What I need is a knight in shining armor to rescue me—911 isn’t an option, since you’re running this show with a gun.”

A car’s headlights illuminate the Hummer’s cab, and I wince. “Ouch!” I click my phone shut, and hope my cry of pain covers the sound. “I think I might’ve wound up with a concussion from the crash. The lights hurt.”

“I wouldn’t worry about a concussion. You won’t be feeling anything soon.”

I gulp. “Let’s get it over and done with.”

As I slip out of the Hummer, I drop my phone onto the driver’s seat. Hopefully, the 911 dispatcher who answered my call realized this wasn’t a prank but a kidnapping in progress. A weird one, true, since we’re at police headquarters, but a kidnapping no matter how you look at it.

We head for the entryway, and then I hear a voice that, while it brings me hope, also chills me to the bone.

“Andie!” Max cries out. “I swung back around when you never caught up with me, and I saw your car out in that field. How come you didn’t call 911? How’d you get here—”

“Shut up, Max,” Glory says. “One more stupid word from you, and she dies. Right here.”

But despite the bravado she stuffs into her words, I realize that Mr. Magnificent has just given me my best shot to get us all out of this. Hopefully, alive.

“So which one of us are you going to take out first?” I ask her, playing for time. There is that dispatcher. I hope she’s done her job, and someone’s on the way to help. We’re at the cop shop, for goodness’ sake. Where are they when you need them?

I go on playing for precious seconds. “Look, Glory. You can’t aim at us both, you can’t shoot us both, and whichever one’s left isn’t going to let you get away with killing the other.”

A shrewd gleam brightens her eyes. “You wanna make a bet? Just watch.”

She presses the barrel tight against my head again. “Okay, Max. Either you leave like a good boy, or she bites the dust.”

I hear Max’s indrawn breath, feel his hesitation. “Don’t listen to her, Max,” I urge. “She can’t kill us both, and she knows she’ll have a swarm of cops out here if that thing goes off.”

“Shows you how much you know,” he counters. “That thick thing attached to the barrel’s a silencer. They won’t hear a thing.”

“Hmm . . .” Glory says, edging me forward. “Not so dumb, are you, Max? Tell her to get in there and get the sapphires.”

His eyes widen. “You’re still after those stupid things? Now, when the authorities have them? Talk about dumb. And here I thought you were smarter than Andie. Seems you have less smarts than even she does. Bad news for a would-be international gem thief.”